Chapter 14
“What happens now? You wait to see if he fucks up?” I ask around a hot mouthful of pizza.
The burn on my tongue makes the words sound lisped. I swallow the scalding cheese and reach for my Dr Pepper, gulping it down. The bubbles make the heat feel worse before soothing it, granting me the ability to feel my mouth again.
Aubrey watches me with a smirk and blows softly onto her slice before sobering.
“Unfortunately. It makes me sound like a terrible person, but that’s what I’m hoping for.
Men like Kevin don’t change. I’ve seen it a thousand times.
This is nothing but a self-righteous attempt to feel better about himself after abandoning his son.
If it was genuinely about wanting a relationship with Nathan, he’d have gone about this differently.
Before he filed for custody, Lydia wasn’t even under the impression he was back in town.
I want nothing more than to be wrong and for him to have actually put in the work to sober up for his son, but I don’t think that’s what this is.
Dragging his son into this mess so soon after losing his mother is cruel, even for an absentee drunk. ”
“You’ll nail him to the wall, Bree. I almost wish I could have been there in court to watch.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate with your giggling,” she jokes, finally taking a bite of her pizza.
“I don’t giggle. I laugh deeply.”
“If that makes you feel better, then sure, honey.”
I knock her shoulder and scowl. “You’re hurting my ego.”
“It could use a bit of poking. Surely, I’ll be able to make it pop one of these days.”
Aubrey rolls her eyes at me before taking another bite.
The thin crust sags beneath the weight of the extra cheese we had put on, and my stomach growls for the millionth time since we got to her place.
Despite already having chowed down on four slices, I’m reaching for another before she can finish her second.
With my legs spread, my knee bumps into hers when I reach across her lap to the box.
“Not happening. As long as I can keep eating like this and still keep my Superman physique, you’ll be left wanting.”
“Yeah, thanks for the reminder that this is going right to my ass while you wake up to a ninth ab tomorrow.”
I cock a brow at her, already moving my next slice toward my lips. Pausing, I pray the grease doesn’t drip all over her white couch and say, “It won’t go to your ass. And even if it did, it wouldn’t change anything.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, slightly prickled.
Frustration blooms in my chest at my inability to clarify better.
In all honesty, I don’t want to overstep my bounds as her best friend.
The friendship between us has kept quite a few compliments left unsaid over the years, and honestly, it’s a disservice to her to think for even a half second that I’m not aware of how beautiful she is.
I may be her best friend, but I’m also a hot-blooded male who’s been here through nearly every stage of her life.
When I was popping random boners in class, she was starting to wear training bras.
I was watching porn for the first time while she was kissing Brad Crowley behind the smoker pit during the first week of grade ten.
Then, she was wearing her first bikini at my parents’ lake house the summer we turned seventeen, and I was disappearing into the guest house to jerk off so I didn’t scar her with my strong reaction.
Sure, it’s easier to keep myself under control knowing that what we have needs to be platonic, but shit. I’m a man, and she might possibly be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.
As the years have gone on, it’s gotten more challenging to hide the intense physical reactions I have to her, but I must be doing an alright enough job if she’s this na?ve to them. It’s not like I can stop. Not when she’s been handcrafted by Aphrodite herself.
Aubrey’s gone her entire life with a curvy figure, but over the last decade, she’s become something out of a wet dream.
She has wide hips, thighs thick enough to stretch the fabric of any tight skirt she slips on, and the ass she’s so scared of seeing get plump is rounder than any of the ones I’m forced to see in the clubhouse.
Her standing only a few inches shorter than me is a turn-on in itself, but in addition to everything else?
It’s no wonder men stare at her everywhere she goes, watching her like they’re considering jumping in front of a bus just for a chance to speak with her.
Still, her beauty stretches far beyond her figure. Her long, raven-black hair, the most electric-blue eyes I’ve ever seen that always seem to see everything around her, and glossy, pouting lips are criminal additions. There’s not a single inch of her that hasn’t been sculpted with an artist’s gaze.
There’s always been a part of me that’s wondered whether her lack of love life stems from the men she’s gone out with truly being so shitty or if they just can’t be themselves out of fear of feeling unworthy of her once they’re in her presence and trip up because of it.
I blink at the hand waving in front of my face, skimming my nose.
“Earth to Finn,” she calls, leaning far closer than she was a minute ago. There’s a concerned pinch between her brows. “You’re going to get grease on my couch.”
I shove the pizza into my mouth. My cheeks feel dry as I chew and focus on the taste rather than the way my jersey has slipped down her shoulder, revealing a patch of creamy skin. Once I’m done, I swallow an extra time for good measure.
“Are you tired? I can send the pizza home with you instead,” she offers, a soft understanding in the words.
“No. No, not yet. I’ve got a bit of energy left in the tank. Roman pulled me too early.”
“I was wondering about that. Were you feeling okay?”
My gut tightens when I continue to keep my shoulder scare to myself. “I’m fine. Beck was ready, and there was no need for me to play the entire game when we were only up by a single.”
“You were great today, in case you didn’t already know. Sara was having the time of her life watching.”
“Yeah? I think the entire city heard her screaming when Jett hit his second homer.”
Aubrey leans against the back of the couch, sinking into the plush cushion. She tugs her legs up and curls them beneath her as she looks at me, a gentle smile curling her lips. They’re gloss-free tonight, yet still their usual soft shade of peach.
I turn toward her and lift a leg, my foot resting on the cushion and knee bent. “What’s the verdict on the nanny?”
“She was . . .” Her lips twist, revealing her initial reaction before schooling it into cool indifference. “Fine.”
“Make sure to give Jett that exact review, Bree. I’m sure that’ll put him at ease.”
“As opposed to what? I don’t even remember the girl’s name, but I know she’s not ready to be in charge of a child in that environment.”
I straighten slightly. “Did something happen?”
“Not like that. She just wasn’t as diligent as I’m sure Jett would appreciate. I already texted him and told him that. I’d have done it face to face, but someone was too antsy to leave.”
“Who? What a selfish bastard.”
Her laugh chimes through the condo. The slow blink of her eyes has me smiling on instinct, watching as she slips into exhaustion territory. “Tell me who you’re going on a date with and when.”
“Do we have to talk about that tonight?”
“Yes. I’ll need to clear my schedule so I can be there creeping on you.”
Stretching out my shoulders, I nod once. “I asked the barista from the café down the road from the stadium. You know the place. Blank Page?”
“You’re not being serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I? I don’t think she’s a fan.”
“Finn,” she groans, immediately face palming.
“What? It’s not like I have an entire contact list full of women to involve in this sort of thing.”
“So, she doesn’t know who you are at all?”
I pause, hesitating. “I didn’t say that.”
“Christ. You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t tell everyone she knows about this. If she ever found out the real reason for this date—”
Without thinking twice, I reach out and take her hand, easing it from her face. She frowns at me but doesn’t pull out of my grasp, letting me stroke her knuckles soothingly.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“How?”
I watch her hesitate behind the walls she’s shoved up in the last two seconds.
Aubrey’s always suffered from the inability to put her trust in those around her when she knows that she’s fully capable of taking care of things herself.
I put the blame on her parents a long, long time ago and have tried my best to prove to her that I actually like when she lets me do things for her.
It’s still an ongoing challenge; I think it always will be.
When there’s a woman as strong and self-assured as Aubrey around you, their independence is something you have to accept instead of being offended by.
“She knows this has no chance of going anywhere, and yes, she’s signed an NDA. I’ve got it handled,” I reassure her. “You know I wouldn’t risk causing any problems for you.”
Her pinkening throat bulges with a swallow. “Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I could have found someone else, but I want to do this quickly. We’re getting closer to the end date, and I’ve done shit all to help you.”
“Yes, you have. It’s me who’s making this complicated. I should just do the faking thing,” she says, the words heavy.
I squeeze her fingers, frustrated with myself. “No. You’re not doing that. It’s real or nothing at all.”
“And if I still can’t find anyone after all of this?”
“Then . . . I’ll make Spencer disappear.”
Her tired eyes crinkle at the corners. “Easy, killer.”
“Who said anything about murder?”
“When is the date, smartass?” she asks, resting her cheek on the back of the couch.
“I’m in Texas for four days come Monday. We could do tomorrow or when I get back.”
“It’ll take too long if we wait until you’re back. Tomorrow’s better.”
“You got it. I’ll finalize the plans in the morning.”
She tips her chin in agreement, and silence follows. It’s not awkward, but it does feel a bit heavier than usual. I know she’s inside her head, and that always has me on edge. I’d prefer to hear her thoughts than wonder about them.
When she speaks, it’s in a low, almost tight voice. “Is she the reason you’ve been so adamant about going to that specific coffee shop so often?”
“Is who?” I ask, feeling the slight pull from the fingers I’m still semi-consciously holding.
Aubrey huffs, almost looking embarrassed. “Your date. I doubt it’s the coffee keeping you such a loyal customer. It’s not any better than the shop a block over. So, is it the barista you’re crushing on?”
“You mean the woman who I had sign an NDA so she wouldn’t tell anyone about how unserious I am about dating her?”
The question sounds as ridiculous coming out of my mouth as I feel asking it. Confusion bites at my brain as I tug her hand and force her to lean toward me, unable to escape. She frowns, letting me know what she’s going to say before she does.
“It’s a fair question. I’d hate to be the reason your chances were ruined with her.”
“Stop.” I interlock our fingers and replicate her position, resting my face against the couch.
The red hue tinting her throat climbs upward, and I stare at it for a beat, considering whether she’s more tired than I assumed she was.
“I’m not interested in her. If I were, I wouldn’t be using her in a dating experiment. ”
It should be explanation enough, but for some reason, I can’t leave it at that, needing to make sure she understands just how little I care about this barista.
“I go to that place because it’s close and Beck’s got a fascination with the owner that he can’t seem to let go of. It has nothing to do with the random barista who was up for signing an NDA and going out with me for no reason.”
She swallows again, eyes locked on mine. They linger, digging deep into the pits of mine as if she’s searching for the truth in my statements when I’m positive the words are already thick with it. Still, I let her stare, keeping the space between us open for her to counter my explanation.
But instead of doing that, she darts her eyes away and leans back a bit. “Beck has a what with who?”
The change of topic feels like a weight off my shoulders. With a chuckle, I release her hand and watch as she brings it to rest open palmed against her stomach. The air cools a few degrees, and I realize just how tense it had gotten just now.
It seems we’re both more tired than we thought.